


Clear Night, Calm Water

by ThereWillBeCubes



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 04:51:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8131088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThereWillBeCubes/pseuds/ThereWillBeCubes
Summary: I was just thinking about Keith and how he might not be... great with words but he's perceptive and wants to help his friends in his own way? also I haven't written Klance yet so





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was just thinking about Keith and how he might not be... great with words but he's perceptive and wants to help his friends in his own way?   
> also I haven't written Klance yet so

-

 

Words couldn’t make him better, and Keith was never good with them anyway. 

He knew that hopelessness, fear; being set adrift on a tumultuous sea with no compass, no map, no light. All around you, darkness. Realising you were completely alone.

Keith walks over to where his biking gear rested; his simple jacket, his pair of helmets. Lance watches him from his hunched position on the couch, soft, muted blues in the moonless night.

He tosses Lance’s helmet to him, and Lance  _ oofs!  _ Caught by surprise.

“Hey! Give a guy some warning,” Lance grumbles, rubbing his stomach, “and I don’t know why you got this, I told you, I’m not riding on that thing.”

Keith frowns.

“You know it’s fine, Hunk and I worked on it.”

“It’s not Hunk’s work I’m worried about!”

Keith lets the challenge in his tone drop, instead replacing it with all the sincerity he could muster.

“Trust me.”

Keith knew, deep down, Lance was a sucker for those words. He meant them, and Lance huffs, dragging himself off the couch.

“Fine, fine,” Lance replies, “but if we crash, you have to put “Lance was right” on your headstone.”

“There’s no way I’m doing that.”

“It’ll be my dying wish!”

“I can’t put it on my own headstone, idiot.”

Lance opens his mouth to retort, but then frowns, pouts. He shoves past Keith and stalks outside, shoving the helmet onto his head.

“Let’s get this over with,” he grumbles.

He’s waiting almost impatiently by the bike, jiggling one leg, arms crossed. Keith decides not to tease him for being so nervous. Lance hops on behind awkwardly, loosely putting his arms Keith’s waist.

“I hope this doesn’t start.”

Well, so much for not teasing.

“Hold on,” Keith says, knowing Lance will take that as a challenge.

“Yeah, what- EVER!”

Keith fangs it down the street, laughing aloud when Lance’s arms squeeze around him. He knows the streets like the back of his hand; the angles to take the corners, where people parked their cars, potholes and backstreets. It’s fluid, second-nature, as the bike’s engine roars and they race along the bitumen. Lance isn’t enjoying it as much as he is, though.

_ “FUCK! KEITH! SLOW DOWN! YOU’RE GONNA KILL US!” _

Keith laughs again, gunning the throttle, and Lance is squeezing so tightly around his middle, his words whipped away by the wind.

_ “NO! FUCK! I DON’T WANNA DIE! I’M TOO YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL TO DIE! KEITH!” _

It takes a few more close calls, but Lance finally wears himself out, simply clinging to him. The warm weight on his back is… nice. Comforting.

The streets flatten out, houses and cars thinning as they come closer to the outskirts, where the lights fade away. Where it’s just them, in the dark night.

Keith didn’t know how to make these things better. But he knew, sometimes, you just had to wait, hold on and wait for the clouds to clear and the sea to settle.

Above them were the stars, uncountable numbers. Keith slows, picking a dirt track to rumble along, feeling Lance leaning against him. Quiet.

They stop by a small hill, and Lance wobbles a bit as he separates himself from Keith, legs unused to the position they’d been in.

“I’m alive… it’s a miracle…” he says in an exaggerated whisper, taking off his helmet to stare at his hands, “we made it.”

“You’re welcome.”

“For my near heart attacks?!”

Keith grabs his hand. It was nice to see him animated, joking, but sometimes he couldn’t tell how much of it was Lance trying to avoid silence. In silence, thoughts crept back, the ones you didn’t want to face.

He finds the spaces between Lance’s fingers, putting his own through them. Lance’s fingers are warmer.

Keith wordlessly leads Lance up the hill, and they sit together, silently looking upwards at the Milky Way, a river of stars. The breeze is cool, ticking their necks as it plays with their hair.

“I could find my way back,” Lance says, turning towards him, and Keith groans.

“Come on, I didn’t think you’d hate it that much-”

Keith’s breath stills as Lance’s other hand cups his face, long fingers brushing the hair from his eyes.

“I didn’t hate it.”

There’s an uncharacteristic strain of worry in Lance’s voice; he thinks he’s gone too far, perhaps.

“Thank you Keith, really.”

Lance tilts Keith’s chin, and his heart slows down in surprise and sudden warmth; Lance wasn’t all that shy anymore, but it was still strange. To share something warm and soft and intimate.

Lance’s fingers run slowly down his cheek, soft. Keith is almost embarrassed about the ridge of acne on each side of his face -  _ Lance had perfect skin, it was maddening- _ but the feeling fades away. He tentatively leans into him, pressing their foreheads together, so he can see the blue of Lance’s eyes in the dark night.

He’s happy.

Lance puts his arm around Keith’s waist, and they sit shoulder-to-shoulder.

“How would you get back?” Keith asks, nudging him.

“Constellations, duh,” Lance replies, a little smugly, pointing. As if Keith can follow his eyes to an exact star.

“All you gotta do is find the North Star, Polaris,” he says, “it’s in Ursa Minor so you find that first, and then you see how high in the sky it is.”

“Or you could follow the road?”

“There’s not always going to be roads, Keith,” Lance says in a mock-sage voice, “remember that.”

“Which one’s the north star, then?” Keith asks.

“You know the Little Dipper?”

“Mhmm.” He rests his head on Lance’s shoulder.

“It’s  the brightest one in the Little Dipper,” Lance says quietly, “sailors used it to find their way out at sea.”

Keith smiles; the water was calm for now.

  
-

**Author's Note:**

> yanderayy.tumblr.com
> 
> thanks for reading, hope you liked it. :>


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